


jeremy heere and (failing at) the art of being charming

by hamelott



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: M/M, but the focus is spicy bi bois, chloe and jenna are also mentioned!, coffee shop AU, dishboy jeremy heere, if you don't read this with rich's lisp you're a coward, pins and patches HEAVILY hinted at, rated t for rich's less than tubular language, tattoo artist rich goranski, technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-29 23:31:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20444396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamelott/pseuds/hamelott
Summary: Rich Goranski likes to flirt and Jeremy Heere suffers because of that.a spicy bis tattoo artist/coffee shop au





	jeremy heere and (failing at) the art of being charming

**Author's Note:**

> this was alternatively titled "little dove" if that does anything for you

Jeremy Heere would not describe himself as charming. He wouldn’t describe himself as outgoing or extroverted or sociable. In fact, he wouldn’t even describe himself as a people-person. And it wasn’t that there was anything  _ wrong _ with people; it was just that it was a whole lot easier to pretend other people didn’t exist because then maybe –  _ just maybe _ – they would pretend that he didn’t exist either. 

So why,  _ oh why _ , did he get a job at a coffee shop?

Actually, he  _ knows _ why. It’s because a cute barista named Christine had convinced Jeremy that he’d be the perfect fit for this quirky little place and, hey, it beat working at some mega-corporation Starbucks who probably believed that their workers were as dispensable as their straws.

And, hey, save the turtles or whatever!

Plus, it wasn’t like Jeremy had to  _ actually _ interact with people. He actually worked in the back, cleaning the mugs and putting cookies into the oven and taking them out again. It was a simple job and paid just over minimum wage which was neat.

“Sure,” Michael said as Jeremy explained all of this. Jeremy was on his break, nursing a hot cocoa, and Michael was sitting across from him, already on his third coffee. After they’d graduated high school, Michael had quickly discovered that coffee provided nearly the same amount of caffeine that all his sodas did while  _ also _ appeasing his very strong sweet tooth when the right kinds of ingredients were added in. “So you’re saying that I should work at an anti-video game corporation but it’s okay because they let me play Candy Crunch in the bathroom?”

Jeremy squinted at him. “How in the world did you get any of that from what I just said?” He sipped his hot chocolate. “Also, it’s  _ Candy Crush _ .”

“You would know that.”

“It’s a good game!”

It’s not like Michael had any room to judge. Ever since he’d gotten an internship at a gaming software company freshman year, he’d been a huge hit. He was now an assistant to one of the VP’s of game design with promises for a job after he graduated from college. So Michael had a prospective and prosperous career in sight while Jeremy was looking to go to grad school for another four, aimless years of wondering what the hell he was going to do with his life.

“Okay but are you at least making progress with the cutie?” Michael asked, frowning down at his empty mug.

Jeremy shrugged a shoulder. “I told you: Christine and I are just friends. I asked her out, she said no, so it’s all good.”

The corner of Michael’s mouth turned down. “Okay but what about that new guy? He’s pretty cute.”

“Who?” Jeremy glanced to the counter and realized  _ who _ was the very tall and, granted, very attractive new-hire. “ _ Jake _ ?” Jeremy spluttered for a few seconds, and Michael, used to this, let him go on until finally nudging him. “N-No, no, no, no. I’m not interested in Jake.”

“Your loss,” Michael said. He then made sure to catch Jake’s eye and sent him a very deliberate wink. Jake’s grin faltered nervously, but he was quick to recover with a weird salute-wave combo that Jeremy might’ve found endearing if he didn’t already know how messy Jake’s car was. He was a man of simple yet very strict standards.

Michael’s watch beeped and he frowned down at it. “I gotta go. I promised Jenna that I’d pick her up Starbucks on the way back.”

Jeremy grimaced. “You work with an insane person. We have perfectly good coffee here.”

“Sure,” Michael said, “but you don’t have to-go cups, and Jenna’s boss rides her a lot harder than mine does. By the way, she wants to set you up with one of the new interns. Her name is Jen, and she looks like a frog but, like, in a cute way.”

Jeremy’s grimace sunk lower. “Again? Why are you two so obsessed with my love life?”

Michael grinned and reached over to ruffle Jeremy’s hair. “Because we think you’re a cutie-patootie who deserves the world.” He shouldered his messenger bag and checked his hair in the window. “I’ll see you tonight, Jer. Don’t forget, my moms are face-timing at five, and they’ll kill me if they don’t get to say hi to you.”

“I wouldn’t miss that for the world,” Jeremy said with a big, cheesy grin. It was true, though. Michael’s moms held a special place in Jeremy’s heart the way he knew his dad had one in Michael’s.

“See ya!” Michael called, flipping Jeremy off over his shoulder. As he stepped out of the coffee shop, he gave Jake another wink and sent the barista off into a series of nervous laughs.

Even though he’d only been working there for a few months, Joe’s held a special place in Jeremy’s heart. It was one of those coffee shops that you might stumble across by accident or find when looking for a quiet place to study and you’d wonder, ‘how the  _ hell _ is this place still in business.’ Joe’s was in the perpetual state of what Jeremy liked to call, ‘half-empty chic.’ Because, sure, low numbers of customers weren’t great for his pay-check or the baristas’ tip-jar, but also what sane person wanted to sit in a quaint coffee shop filled to the brim with strangers?

It was a fairly open building with a front window that spanned the length of the street-facing wall and let in all the natural light one could ask for. The counter spanned the length of the back wall and had two registers, examples of cup sizes, and an open display showing off all the baked goods that Brooke, with Jeremy’s help, worked on very diligently in the back of the shop. Every other wall was covered in floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. Jeremy’s favorite part of the place was Joe’s “read, return, replace” policy; anybody could come in and take a book off the shelf and then either read it, return it, or replace it with a book of their own.

The tables were spread out pretty well; well enough, anyways, that when Jeremy had to wipe them down at the end of the day, he didn’t trip over chairs or bump into any of the other workers. Plus there were tables like the one he was sat at that were tucked away and hidden for the non-people-persons like him. 

Jeremy was considering whether or not to get another hot chocolate before his break was up when someone slid into the seat across from him, replacing Michael with an ease that he didn’t realize strangers were capable of.

He opened his mouth to quickly apologize and offer to leave but was cut short when he glanced up. The guy was  _ covered _ in tattoos. Okay, well, not  _ covered _ but both his arms were sleeved from wrist to shoulder. The only thing that broke up the designs were the burn scars that traced from the upper half of the guy’s right arm and swirled up to circle around his throat.

And then Jeremy got a look at the guy’s face.

And  _ shit _ , he was cute.

Like smokin’ hot cute.

“You look like you just got broken up with,” was the guy’s smooth one-liner.

Which, in all reality, wasn’t smooth or even that good of a one-liner at all.

And it seemed like the guy realized that because his face immediately flushed a bright pink and he added, “No, I’m sorry, that came out wrong. You just looked alone and, like, a little sad.”

He had a lisp.

Oh god.

“My best friend says I have RSBF,” Jeremy said quickly. At the guy’s frown, he quickly added, “Resting sad-bitch face.”

“Oh,” the guy said. He grinned. “Well I say you got RCF. Resting cute face.”

Jeremy choked on his own spit. “What was that, Jake?!” Jake glanced up from where he’d been silently tapping on his phone. “Oh, no, a dish-washing emergency? I’m sorry, I’ve gotta go.”

Jeremy scrambled to his feet, gathered up his mug and Michael’s three, and quickly disappeared into the back of the shop.

He was pretty sure he heard tattoo-guy laughing behind him and desperately hoped he wasn’t laughing  _ at _ him.

By the time that Jeremy was cleaning up to close up the shop for the day, he’d pretty much forgotten about the incident with tattoo-guy.

Which is why he only squeaked marginally when the door opened with a little jingle of the overhead bell and tattoo-guy himself walked in.

He was shorter than Jeremy, but Jeremy was not gonna touch that and how it made him feel with a ten-foot pole.

“We’re closed,” he said and then immediately felt guilty for how harsh it sounded. “But, I mean, I think one of the baristas is still in the back. I can see if they’d be willing to make you something real quick or-.”

“No, no, no,” tattoo-guy said, shaking his head at Jeremy. He reached up and scratched awkwardly at his neck; Jeremy could just make out a little dove on his wrist. “I actually came back to apologize. To you.”

“To  _ me _ ?” Jeremy glanced around, trying to find another  _ you _ that tattoo-guy could possibly be speaking to.

“Yeah,” he said. “I just felt bad about, y’know, earlier. I think I made you uncomfortable which is, like, totally understandable. My friends say I come on a little too strong sometimes.”

“M-Me? Uncomfortable?” Jeremy knew he was spluttering now. He was wringing his washcloth between his hands, twisting it and hopefully not tearing it. Exhaling, Jeremy tried to get ahold of himself. “Well, I mean, you can’t really blame that on yourself. I’m pretty much in a perpetual state of uncomfortable and awkward anyways.”

Tattoo-guy’s lips quirked into a small, twisted smile. “Oh, really? Hadn’t noticed.”

Jeremy laughed softly, reaching up to readjust his glasses even though they hadn’t needed to be readjusted. “But, uh, apology accepted, anyways. You really didn’t have to come back.”

“No, I know, I just…wanted to.” He was flushed pink again, but he still had that little grin playing at his lips. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you were cute. But, like, if you want me to back off, I will! Just say, ‘fuck off, Rich,’ and I’ll, well, you get it.”

_ Rich _ .

His name was Rich.

Jeremy’s face was on fire. “Uh, no, I mean, I’m flattered. Super flattered. Most flattered I’ve ever been.”

One of Rich’s eyebrows lifted. “ _ Ever _ ?”

“Uh-.”

“So it’s cool if I get coffee here tomorrow?” he asked. “Like, you’re not gonna get a restraining order or anything?”

“W-What? No, no, of course not.” Jeremy glanced to the counter. “Actually, I don’t even, like, work out here, so you probably won’t even see me if you come back.”

Rich’s bottom lip protruded into an over-exaggerated pout. “Shame.” He was back to smiling quickly, and Jeremy was nearly floored by it. “I should let you finish up. Sorry for practicing the worst customer etiquette known to mankind. See you later, cute-face!”

Jeremy’s best attempt at a goodbye back was choking on his own spit.

_ Again _ .

“He had a drumkit and a dragon and a bumblebee, but I think my favorite was this little dove on his wrist.”

“Uh-huh, sounds very cool, Jer.”

Jeremy was sprawled out and his and Michael’s couch, taking up more room than what should’ve probably been legal, but Michael didn’t seem to care. Michael was too busy squinting down at his laptop, patiently tapping at it every few seconds. Jeremy hated that laptop; it was the only thing currently keeping him from resting his head on Michael’s thighs.

Michael had comfortable thighs.

“He  _ was _ cool, Michael,” Jeremy insisted. He reached up to poke Michael in the face, but other than giving him a quick glare, Michael didn’t really react. “Cool and  _ hot _ .”

“Uh-huh,” Michael hummed. He was chewing on his bottom lip fervently, deep in thought. Jeremy was pretty sure he was working on something for his boss, so he was counting even these half-assed comments as successes. “And did he ride in on a Harley Davidson smoking a cigar?”

Jeremy frowned.

Never mind, Michael was an ass.

He sat up and stole the laptop, ignoring Michael’s indignant squawk.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jeremy asked.

Michael shrugged a shoulder and then huffed when Jeremy refused to return the laptop. “Look, I dunno, Jer. He just seems like some hettie meathead, okay?”

“He was flirting with me,” Jeremy said indignantly. Then, after a beat of silence, “He  _ was _ flirting with me, right?”

“Honest answer?” Michael asked softly. Jeremy grimaced but nodded. “Probably not. Like I said, he sounds like a meathead. He was probably just fucking with you.”

“Then why’d he come back to apologize?”

“He’s  _ really bad _ at fucking with you.”

Jeremy groaned and flopped back onto the couch, holding out Michael’s laptop. “This sucks. He sucks.”

Michael, the amazing person he was, set aside his laptop and forced Jeremy to rest his head on his thigh. “Yeah, bud, I know.”

“But how’d he even know to mess with me?” Jeremy asked. “I mean, what the hell? He doesn’t know me. He doesn’t know how I live my life.”

“Jeremy, buddy, you  _ scream _ gay.”

“But I’m bi.”

“Jeremy, buddy, you  _ scream _ gay.”

Jeremy mouth twisted ruefully. “I didn’t even know homophobic people existed anymore. That’s so lame. Homophobes are lame.”

“You said it.” Michael sighed and picked up the remote, plopping it onto Jeremy’s chest. “Let’s watch a movie. You pick.” Michael’s hand rested on Jeremy’s forehead and patted it twice. “And, hey, don’t worry about it, okay? I’m sure you’ll never see that douche again.”

It was quiet for a while as Jeremy scrolled through the movie options until he finally said, “Can we get a dog?”

“Why do you always ask me that when you’re sad?”

“Because I thrive off guilt-tripping you and you can’t fight the puppy-dog eyes.”

Silence.

“We can get a  _ picture _ of a dog.”

“That’s a start!”

Despite Michael’s promise, Jeremy did, in fact, see that douche again.

“Jeremy, why are you hiding beneath that table?” Brooke asked, frowning down at him.

“Oh, um,” he said. “Just…cleaning.”

Brooke crouched down and held out one of the cookies in her hand. Jeremy took it gratefully and gave it a demure munch. “It doesn’t look very comfortable down here.”

Jeremy shrugged. “Well, you know. A dishboy’s work is never easy.”

“I like to call you a dishman.”

“Thanks, Brooke.”

That was, of course, when Christine stepped into the back with a tray full of dirty mugs. She stopped short when she saw Jeremy, underneath the table with a half-eaten cookie, and Brooke, halfway beneath the table with two uneaten cookies. She frowned. “Um, are you two okay?”

“I’m cleaning,” Jeremy said at the same time Brooke said, “He’s hiding.”

“Hiding from what?” Christine asked, setting the tray down carefully. “Is it from Jake? I didn’t wanna tell him that he definitely put on too much Axe this morning, but he  _ definitely _ put on too much Axe this morning.”

Brooke shook her head. “Not Jake. Although, I agree with the Axe. I told him weeks ago that he should switch to Old Spice. Much more dignified.”

“That’s what I said!”

“Guys!” Jeremy whined. They looked at him and blinked.

“Oh, right, sorry,” Christine said quickly. “Who’re you hiding from?”

“I’m not  _ hiding _ ,” Jeremy said petulantly from his hiding spot.

“Then what are you cleaning?” Brooke asked.

“Uh…the floor?”

“With a half-eaten cookie?” Christine was clearly unimpressed with his lying skills.

Jeremy sighed. “It’s the guy with all the tattoos. I think he’s homophobic, so I’m just chilling down here until he leaves. I don’t want him to bother me anymore.”

Christine’s face grew steely. “I’ll kick him out.”

“Wait, no, Christine, you don’t have to-,” Jeremy started to protest.

“Wait,” Brooke interrupted, “Rich?”

Jeremy glanced at her. “You know him?”

“Do I know Rich?” Brooke blinked at him. “Do I know Jake’s best friend Rich? Do I know Jake’s  _ bisexual _ best friend Rich? Yes.” She nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“Oh.”

“He’s  _ bi _ , Michael,” Jeremy said at the table that night. They were eating Jeremy’s famous ‘Chinese take-out that he picked up on the way home from Joe’s.’

Michael was grimacing. Jeremy hated a Michael grimace. “I dunno, Jer.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Jeremy asked, fighting a frown. “He’s not some homophobic jerk. He was probably  _ actually _ flirting with me.”

Michael seemed to consider this through two bites of lo mein before saying, “Okay, but hear me out, what if he’s just screwing with you?”

“What?” Jeremy lost the fight with the frown. “Why would he do that?”

Michael shrugged a shoulder. “I dunno. People are dicks like that sometimes. Maybe he’s a dick like that.”

“Oh,” Jeremy said softly. He was stirring his orange chicken forlornly.

“I mean,” Michael said a little hesitantly, “maybe he’s  _ not _ a dick like that?”

“You think?” Jeremy looked up sharply, biting back a grin.

Michael nodded, but he didn’t look happy doing it. “I said  _ maybe _ but, yeah, sure. But you don’t know him yet. You shouldn’t get your hopes all up for a tattooed stranger who flirts weirdly.”

“Why not?” Jeremy asked, setting down his fork; Michael had been trying to teach him how to use chopsticks for years, but the only skill Jeremy’s hands had was playing video games and even then, he wasn’t that good at them. “You get your hopes up on guys that you see across a bar and then actually end up  _ dating _ those guys.”

“No, I know,” Michael said. “But that’s different.”

“Why?” Jeremy asked, trying to pretend there wasn’t a hurt tone to his voice. “Why is it  _ so _ hard to believe that some guy might actually be interested in me?”

“That’s not what I’m saying!” Michael protested. He took a sharp breath and sat back, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant, but I can see how it came off like that. I just don’t want you getting hurt, Jer. Why do you think I enlist Jenna to help me scout out people for you? I just don’t know this guy and it scares me or something, I dunno.”

Jeremy felt his anger and hurt evaporate immediately. He grinned at Michael. “I’m gonna be okay, Michael. Plus, like, you’re right; he’s just some stranger that I’ve seen, like,  _ twice _ . It’s just a dumb little thing that’ll probably forever stay a dumb little thing.”

“Right, sure.” Michael nodded. He smiled back at Jeremy. “Just a dumb little thing.”

Jeremy had thought that was it.

So why the hell was Michael, two empty coffee mugs in front of him, sitting across from Rich at their usual table during Jeremy’s break? 

“Uh, hey, Michael,” he said as he approached the table. This time he had forgone the hot cocoa and instead just had a glass of water. “And, uh, it was Rich, right?”

He asked as if he hadn’t been thinking about the guy for an entire week.

“Hey, cute-face,” Rich said cheerily. When he realized there wasn’t a third chair, Rich got up and sat Jeremy down. Pulling up another chair that he straddled the back of to face them, he added, “We were just talking about you.”

“Oh?” Jeremy glared at Michael quickly before trying to grin back at Rich. “Only, uh, good things I hope.”

“I was just telling Rich that you’d probably never get a tattoo,” Michael filled him in. He turned to Rich like they were lifelong conspirators and not near-strangers. “I tried to convince him to get matching tattoos with me in high school, but he didn’t go for it.”

“I don’t like needles,” Jeremy said with a frown. 

“I think Michael’s tattoo is pretty dope,” Rich told Jeremy. “Very geek chic.” 

“Alright but at least I don’t have a tattoo of my Hogwarts house,” Michael retorted, but Jeremy could see that Michael was just joking around. How long had they been sitting out here? How did they get from the awkward socialization to the witty banter phase so quickly?

“It’s  _ just _ a lion.” Then Rich scoffed. “Plus, I’m a total Slytherin, dude.”

Michael sighed, eyes going skyward. “You would be.” He shot Jeremy a grin before getting to his feet. “I’m gonna go order another two coffees. Anybody want anything?” 

_ For this to end _ .

“A cookie?” Jeremy asked. 

Michael nodded as he walked away. “You got it.”

“So,” Rich drawled, bringing Jeremy’s attention to him, “how’ve you been?”

He had a red streak in his blond hair, and Jeremy was seventy-five-percent sure that hadn't been there the last time he’d seen Rich. It looked good, like,  _ stupid _ good. Like ‘Jeremy would like to run a hand through that streak of red hair but he won’t because that’s a really weird thing to want’ kind of good. 

“Oh, you know,” Jeremy stammered, “dishes.”

Which, after further reflection, didn’t answer Rich’s question whatsoever. 

But Rich was laughing, and the sound made Jeremy’s chest feel warm. “Yeah? I’ve been tupperware myself, but beggars can’t be choosers.”

“Right, no, sorry, I mean, yeah, I’ve been fine. Just fine. Decent even. Great!” He was rambling;  _ oh god _ , he was rambling. Michael come back and save him!

But Michael was clearly too busy flirting with Jake to answer his unspoken cry for help. 

“That’s good,” Rich said, voice incredibly soft and soothing in a way that almost jarred Jeremy. He wasn’t looking at Jeremy now, eyes instead focused on the people outside the shop. 

Jeremy felt like squirming, but he didn’t want to indicate to Rich that he was nervous. But, the thing is, he  _ was  _ nervous. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing or make the wrong move. He didn’t know what was happening between him and Rich, but he damn sure knew that he didn’t want to be the one to ruin it. 

“I like your hair,” he said after a moment. That was good; smalltalk was good. He could just stall until Michael came back and then Michael would distract Rich in some conversation and Jeremy could just stare dreamily at Rich in a not weird way at all. 

Rich’s smile was intensely bright as he reached up a hand to run it through his hair. “Yeah? Thanks. Chloe did it yesterday because she was super bored, so it was either the hair or a new tattoo and I’m  _ never _ letting Chloe pick out a tattoo for me ever again.” He lifted up his wrist and pointed to the little dove that resided there; it was a soft cream color, outlined with thick black, and probably the most simple tattoo that Rich had on either of his arms. “This is what she did last time.” 

“Oh,” Jeremy said, “I like that one.” Then warmth blossomed in his cheeks and he mumbled, “N-Not that it matters what  _ I _ think of  _ your _ tattoos.” 

“No, it’s okay,” Rich said quickly. “I appreciate it. Maybe I should appreciate the tattoo a little more too.” 

“So, uh, Chloe, is that like a girlfriend or?” Why was he asking that? Why the  _ hell _ was he asking that?

And why was he so desperately hoping that Rich would say no?

“No,” Rich said and Jeremy tried to ignore the way his heart swooped, “coworker. Well, probably friend. Maybe work friend. We butt heads more than we get along, but she’s a good artist and does all the piercing work at my shop, so I can’t complain.”

And,  _ oh god _ , Jeremy had no idea what Rich did for a living. He hadn’t even asked; hadn’t even  _ thought _ to ask. 

Rich must have seen the panicked look on Jeremy’s face because he added, “My tattoo shop. That’s what I do, actually. I’m a tattoo artist.”

Jeremy nodded but inwardly he was screaming because that was just  _ so cool _ . 

“That’s cool,” he said. “How did you-?”

“Oh my god,” Rich interrupted, grinning at Jeremy with that bright smile again. “I  _ love _ this song.”

Jeremy gaped at him and then quickly nodded. He’d tuned out the music that played throughout the cafe weeks ago, but now that he listened to it, he still had no idea what song it was. It was nice though; it had a soft melody and simple rhythm. A calming song to play in a calming coffee shop. Although he wouldn’t really have pegged Rich as a soft acoustic type of guy, he certainly wasn’t complaining. 

“C’mon,” Rich said, hopping to his feet. He held out a hand to Jeremy and winked at him. 

“Wha?” Jeremy said dumbly.

“Oh, right.” Rich cleared his throat, wrapped his other hand around his stomach, and then bowed. “Jeremiah, may I have this dance?” 

“Wha?” Jeremy repeated, just as dumbly. He glanced around the coffee shop, and, sure, it was pretty empty, but he didn’t want to make a fool of himself even in front of the few people that  _ were _ in the shop. His stomach was doing loops, but his heart was telling him to just take Rich’s hand. 

“C’mon,” Rich prodded, “I’ll dance worse than you so they make fun of  _ me _ for being the weirdo.”

Apparently, that was all that it took. 

Jeremy grabbed Rich’s hand and squeaked when Rich hauled him up to his feet. Rich laughed and then immediately took the lead. “Do you know the waltz?” 

“No, I don’t know the waltz,” Jeremy said quickly, trying to keep the bite out of his tone. He sometimes got mean when he was nervous, but Rich seemed to be taking it in stride. 

“Okay so just look at what I’m doing with my feet, and then do the opposite.”

“That’s literally the worst advice anyone has ever given me about anything.” 

Rich was laughing again and then he just started stepping side to side, squeezing Jeremy’s hands. To stick true to his promise, he added in a few awkward hip wiggles and purposely tripped over his own feet a few times, but that only served to make Jeremy laugh and roll his eyes. 

He was very astutely ignoring Michael and Jake who were watching them with similar wide-eyed expressions. 

When the song was over, Rich twirled Jeremy into his seat before collapsing into his own with a fit of giggles. Jeremy’s face felt like it was on fire, and he covered it with his hands, trying to see if he could will his blush away. “God, that was the worst.” 

“Nah, c’mon, you loved it,” Rich said, reaching over to poke him in the arm. Then, after a beat of hesitation, he added, “That was okay, right? Like, you’re good?”

Jeremy peeked between his fingers to see Rich worrying at his bottom lip. He grinned at him and nodded. “It was fun, Rich.” 

Rich’s smile back was worth all the embarrassing blushes in the world. “Cool.” 

“Good moves, guys,” Michael said with a laugh as he rejoined them at the table. He gave Jeremy a large grin and an eyebrow waggle. 

And, oh... _ oh no _ .

“He got you to  _ dance _ , Jeremy.”

“I know, Michael.”

“In  _ public _ .”

“I  _ know _ , Michael.”

“You wouldn’t even dance with your girlfriend at  _ senior prom _ .”

Jeremy sighed and tried to just focus all his annoyance into stirring his mac and cheese. “Michael, I get it.” 

Michael, who was cracking eggs into a bowl next to him, just grinned wider. “He’s cute too. Not really  _ my _ type, but cute.”

“What is your type exactly?” Jeremy asked, shooting a raised eyebrow at him. 

“Tall, extra dark, and handsome.”

“So Jake?”

Michael squinted at him, and Jeremy could see a hint of a flush in his cheeks. “We’re not talking about me right now.”

“Um, I think we are.” Jeremy grinned and turned back to his stirring. 

“No, we’re not.” Michael reached over and poked Jeremy in the arm. “We’re talking about totally hot Richard Goranski who totally wants to, like, marry you and shit.” 

“Stop,” Jeremy groaned. “Look, Michael, we just met. I barely even know him.”

“This does not sound like the Jeremy Heere from a week ago who couldn’t stop swooning about the cute boy he met at work.” Michael was frowning now. He came over, shut off the stove, and swiped Jeremy’s stirring spoon. When Jeremy glared at him, he sighed. “Seriously. What’s wrong? What happened? Was the dancing thing so bad?”

“No, no,” Jeremy said with a shake of his head because it  _ wasn’t _ bad; it was  _ fun _ . “It’s just...now that you know him, I think it makes it all more real? Like, this is a guy I might actually catch feelings for and that’s  _ scary _ .”

“Well, maybe if you stopped describing it like you were getting some disease, it might seem less scary.” Jeremy snorted softly and Michael beamed. He reached out and gently punched Jeremy’s chest. “Just try not to worry about it so much, okay?”

“Have you met me?” Jeremy asked, unimpressed. 

“Yes,” Michael said. “Which is why I was so surprised to see you actually  _ enjoying _ making a fool out of yourself in public.” 

Jeremy cheeks prickled with heat as he said, “Yeah, well…” 

Michael handed him back the spoon. “Just remember that Jenna and I are going to do full background checks. You have nothing to worry about.”

“Surprisingly, that doesn’t make me feel better.”

Michael stuck out his tongue at him and then returned to his eggs. 

After a few minutes of content silence, Jeremy asked, “Goranski...you think that’s Jewish?” 

“Probably not. Why would that matter?”

“Well, it’d matter to my mom.”

“When has your mom ever mattered?”

“Touché.” 

So the thing with Rich stayed pretty consistent: Rich would come get coffee around Jeremy’s break time, he’d flirt with Jeremy, Jeremy would stammer and blush, and then they’d go about their days. 

It continued perfectly until it didn’t. 

Jeremy tried not to worry when Rich didn’t show up during his break because that would be stupid. Rich was his own person, and he didn’t  _ have _ to keep coming to the same coffee shop every day just to boost Jeremy’s ego. Maybe he’d just given up on Jeremy; it wasn’t like Jeremy was ever going to make the first move, and maybe Rich got tired of waiting around. 

It was fine. 

It was fine. 

It was fine all the way up until closing. Jeremy had already locked the front door and was puttering around the front of the shop, wiping down tables and putting up chairs. 

He nearly shrieked when he heard banging from one of the windows.

And there was Rich. 

And, oh, it was raining. 

Rich smiled at him and waved, water dripping off his nose and chin. 

And,  _ oh _ , Jeremy should definitely let him inside. 

Scrambling to the door, Jeremy fumbled with the keys on his belt loop before quickly realizing that  _ he didn’t need the keys to unlock it from the inside _ . So he quickly unlocked the door and ushered Rich in. Rich, who was panting and soaking wet, but grinning at Jeremy as if he’d just given him a million dollars. 

“Hey,” Rich said. “Sorry I wasn’t able to make it for your break. Things got busy at the shop today, so I couldn’t take a lunch break. And then I was going to sneak away just for a little bit, but Chloe had a family emergency and had to leave, so I couldn’t-.”

“Why are you here?” Jeremy interrupted because he was an idiot who never let himself have anything nice ever. 

Rich’s smile faltered but only a little. “I...I dunno. I just wanted to see you, I guess.” Rich reached up to scrape his sopping bangs out of his eyes and tilted his head slightly. “Is that weird? I’m just now realizing that it might be weird.”

Jeremy nodded a little. “It’s maybe, like, twenty-percent weird.”

“But eighty-percent cute, right?” Rich waggled his eyebrows at him, and,  _ god _ that shouldn’t make Jeremy as giddy as it did. 

“Do you want pizza?” Jeremy asked instead of giving Rich what he actually wanted. “Michael and I are ordering pizza tonight. You can come to our apartment. We’ll get you some dry clothes too.” 

Rich’s eyes were gleaming but he said, “Are you sure? You don’t have to do that just because I showed up twenty minutes after your shop closed like a freaky, albeit cute, stalker.” 

Jeremy nodded, inwardly asking the universe for strength. “Yeah.” He nodded a little stronger. “Yeah, I’m sure. Gimme ten minutes, and we can get out of here.” 

Now, Jeremy wasn’t much bigger than Rich. Sure, he was taller and, yes, Rich was slimmer than he was, but overall, they weren’t  _ too _ different. And, anyways, Rich had broader shoulders that should’ve counteracted Jeremy’s pudginess, and Jeremy had short arms which should’ve worked in favor for Rich’s stature. 

So Rich should not have looked so adorably small in Jeremy’s old blue cardigan. 

It should’ve been illegal. 

“You look like small boy,” Michael said, patting Rich once on the head. 

Rich grinned up at him, eyebrows twisted in confusion. “Um, thanks?” 

His hands were wrapped up inside the sleeves, and Jeremy could see him twisting the fabric nervously. 

“What kind of pizza do you like, Rich?” he asked in order to retain some semblance of his own sanity. 

“Pepperoni?” Rich said in a questioning tone. “I’m not too picky though.”

“Opinions on pineapple on pizza?” Michael asked as nonchalantly as possible even though Jeremy knew that Rich’s answer to that question could mean life or death itself.

“Not my thing.” Jeremy tensed. “But to each their own, man, you know?” Jeremy untensed. Rich noticed and laughed hesitantly. “What? Wrong answer?”

“The most correct answer you could’ve given,” Michael said and gave him another pat. “I’ll go order the pizza. You guys can just chill in here.”

And then Michael was gone.

Jeremy was going to kill him.

Their apartment wasn’t the smallest in the world, but it certainly wasn’t the biggest either. A living room connected to an open kitchen connected to a hallway that led to two bedrooms and a bathroom. The living room was probably the best-decorated room by far; it had some of Michael’s video game posters over here and a few of Jeremy’s cactuses on the windosill over there. They had a TV with a couple game consoles, a couch, a comfy chair where Rich was sat, and, because they were  _ those _ twenty-year-olds, a worn bean bag chair stolen from Michael’s moms’ basement. 

“Cool place,” Rich said with a grin. He glanced over the back of his chair in the direction Michael had wandered off in. “It must be nice to have a roommate.” 

“Do you not have one?” Jeremy asked, trying to resist the urge to raise his eyebrows. He’d never actually really heard of anyone their age living by themselves yet. 

Rich shook his head. “Nope. Just me. Well, and Cupboard and Pepper.” 

“Am I supposed to know what that means?”

Rich’s laugh was loud and comforting. It filled the space nicely and made Jeremy’s stomach do some interesting loops. “No, probably not. My cat and rabbit.”

“No dog?” He tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice. But, hey, it’d be ridiculously unfair if Rich was perfect in  _ every _ way, so he figured a compromise here and there couldn’t hurt. 

“I wanted one,” Rich said, chewing on his bottom lip a little, “but I’m at the shop a lot and, I mean, I live in a city. I think it’s harder on dogs to do that to them, you know? One day, when I live somewhere with a nice yard, I think I’ll adopt one or two. Yeah, that’d be nice.”

Jeremy took it all back; Rich was absolutely perfect. 

“Y-You named your cat Cupboard?” he managed to choke out. Rich grinned at him as he added, “That’s an unusual name. Did you find him in a cupboard and rescue him or something?”

Rich shook his head. “Nope. Just thought it’d be a cool name.” Rich sat up suddenly, eyes focused completely on Jeremy now. “You should come over sometime. You can meet him and Pepper. Cupboard’s a bit grumpy, but Pepper will sit in your lap long enough for him to get over himself.”

The way Rich talked about his pets made Jeremy feel particularly gooey inside.

He nodded. “I like that.” And then he fumbled. “I mean, I  _ would _ . I  _ would _ like that. Like, I would enjoy that if we were to ever do...that.”

RIch beamed. “Great! And then after  _ that  _ maybe we can swing by my shop.”

“Oh, yeah, that’d be cool,” Jeremy said and meant it. Ever since he’d learned that Rich was a tattoo artist, he’d been super interested to see the kind of work Rich had done in the past. And, sure, he could probably instagram-stalk the guy, but Jeremy preferred a purer approach. 

“Sorry if I’m inconveniencing you guys in any way,” Rich said suddenly, voice a little quieter. “I honestly don’t know why I thought it’d be a good idea to swing by Joe’s in the pouring rain. It just felt weird not seeing you, you know?”

Jeremy knew. 

“You’re not a bother,” he said quickly. “Plus, I mean, Michael and I need some sort of variation in our lives anyways. We don’t really have that many friends from school, and when we do have friends, we never think to actually invite them over or anything.” 

“What are you going to school for?” Rich asked. Then he jumped in his seat a little and said, “Wait, don’t tell me. Lemme guess.” He hummed and hawed exaggeratingly, looking Jeremy up and down and making him laugh a little. Eventually, he said, “English major.” 

“So close. Business.”

Rich frowned at that. “ _ Business _ ? What for? What’s the big, Jeremy Heere aspiration?” 

Jeremy’s heart was in his throat. He shrugged a little. “Uh, I’m not sure yet.”

Understanding creased Rich’s eyebrows. He nodded. “I get it. Shit’s rough. It’s probably a smart degree to have, open a lot of doors for you, probably.”

“It’d be smarter if I knew what I wanted to do with it.” Jeremy shook his head. “But, anyways, tattoo artist. How does one become one of those?”

“Right, well, my older brother had a buddy who owns a shop in Jersey, and I started an apprenticeship with him right out of high school. I worked with him for three years and somewhere in there I met Chloe.” Rich rolled his eyes, but he had a little grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Well, Chloe’s from a pretty rich family, and she decided that she suddenly wanted to start a piercing shop in New York. She asked me if I wanted a job as a tattoo artist, and I jumped at the opportunity. The shop was  _ technically _ paid for by Chloe’s dad, but our names are on the papers.”

“Whoa,” Jeremy said softly, “that’s really cool.” 

“It’s really  _ lucky _ ,” Rich corrected. “Seriously. I have no idea where I’d be if it weren’t for Chloe. She kinda saved my ass.” 

“What was wrong with the place in Jersey?” 

As Jeremy asked the question, he noticed Rich’s fists curling up in the fabric of the cardigan. His smile was tighter now. “I needed to get out of Jersey. At least for a while. I’m not really sure if I’ll go back.” 

“Right,” Jeremy said with a quick nod, “I get it. We’re from Jersey too. Trash state.” 

Rich laughed, but Jeremy noticed that it didn’t seem to be filling the room as nicely anymore. “Exactly.” 

So that was of course when Michael walked back into the room, a grin on his face. “Richard, you are about to eat the best goddamn pizza in the state of New York.”

“You know you can’t really claim that when every pizza place in the city calls themselves that, right?”

“Shut up, Jeremy, and let me have this.” 

It was a few hours after his break, and Jeremy was in the back washing the dishes. 

He did really like his job, for the most part. The work was pretty easy, and the people he worked with were nice. Plus, the owner, Mr. Reyes (oddly enough,  _ not _ named Joe), seemed to be taking a shining to Jeremy whenever he stopped in at the shop. He said that Jeremy was the best backstage hand he’d ever seen in the business.

Whatever the hell that meant. 

He looked up and grinned as Jake walked into the back, trying in vain to untie his apron. 

“Need some help?” he asked, wiping his soapy hands on a towel. 

Jake glanced over his shoulder at Jeremy, face already caught in a grin. “Yeah, man, do you mind? I’d appreciate it.” 

“Sure, sure,” Jeremy said, walking over. He wiped his hands on his pants for extra measure and then got to work on one of Christine’s “super knots,” as Brooke liked to call them. 

“So,” Jake said when Jeremy got through the first layer of knottage, “you and Rich, huh?” 

“M-Me and Rich?” Jeremy’s voice had gone supersonic, fingers fumbling for a second. “What, uh, what do you mean?”

“Jeremy,” Jake said, and Jeremy could  _ hear _ the teasing smirk in his voice. “C’mon, man, I’m not blind. I know my boy, and I know you too. You guys like each other. It’s chill.”

“R-Right.” Jeremy cleared his throat. “Uh, yeah.”

When Jeremy finally got the knots undone, Jake twirled around and leveled an intense stare at Jeremy that made him feel like sweating.

“Do I need to give you a shovel talk?” 

“What?!” Jeremy yelped. “No, uh, I mean, no, no, what? No!”

Jake was frowning now which was a little scary because Jeremy had been pretty sure he only had two facial expressions: suave smirk and laid-back grin. 

“Look, man,” Jake said, voice quieter now, more serious. He glanced around as if to make sure they were really alone. “I care about Rich a lot.”

Jeremy’s eyes widened. “ _ Oh _ . Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Do  _ you _ like Rich? Because I’ll totally back off!” 

Jake laughed at that which did a little to help unwind the “super knot” in Jeremy’s stomach. “Dude, hell no. Rich is great, and he’s totally my best friend, but he’s also friggin’ crazy.”

And, yeah, Jake was so totally the guy to say ‘friggin’ in the most serious tone possible. 

“But,” Jake continued, “he’s my  _ best friend _ . He’s been through some shit. Like, hardcore shit. So if you’re just playing him or- or-.”

“I’m not,” Jeremy said quickly. “I’m really, really not. I mean, I don’t  _ know _ where I want things to go, but when I do...I would never.” 

Jake studied him for a moment; eyes flicking over Jeremy’s face, searching for  _ something _ . Eventually, he nodded and stepped away. “Cool. You’re a lucky dude, so if you break his heart, I’ll ruin your life.” He grinned at Jeremy. “But I know he’s a lucky dude too. I’ll catch you later, man.”

“Yeah!” Jeremy squeaked. “Uh, bye.” 

When Jake stepped out the back door, Jeremy crumbled against a nearby table and  _ keened _ . 

“Is it weird that I find that incredibly hot?”

Jeremy reached over and smacked the back of Michael’s head. Yelping, he ducked away from Jeremy, but not far enough that he would lose his spot in line at the comic book shop. He laughed at Jeremy and shoved him lightly. 

“I’m totally kidding,” he said, still laughing. 

Jeremy rolled his eyes. “You’re totally not.”

Michael shrugged a shoulder. “Okay, maybe not.” He glanced at Jeremy, squinting slightly. “You’re really freaked out about this, huh?” 

“Yes!” Jeremy hissed at him. “Of course I am.”

The corner of Michael’s mouth started to tug down. “Look, dude, if you don’t want to get involved with Rich’s shit, I’m sure he’d understand. I mean, maybe that’s why he-.”

“That’s not why I’m freaking out,” Jeremy interrupted, grumbling a little bit. And it really wasn’t. Was he terrified about whatever “hardcore shit” Rich had apparently been through? Sure. But he was more scared because, “What if I screw everything up?”

The corner tugged some more. “What?”

Jeremy huffed out a breath, avoiding Michael’s imploring gaze. His cheeks were starting to prickle with heat, and he bit on the insides of them in a flimsy attempt to make the blush go away. “I just, I dunno. I  _ like _ Rich, Michael.”

“I know,” Michael said gently. “So?”

“ _ So _ ...what if I’m not what he needs in a relationship?”

“Jeremy.” Michael poked him on the arm when Jeremy didn’t even look over. “Dude, look at me.” Jeremy blinked at him, trying to pretend that he  _ didn’t _ have the most petulant look on his face. “I love you, but you’re thinking way too hard about this. You and Rich aren’t even dating.” He winked then. “ _ Yet _ . But, also, Rich is a big boy. He can pick what he does and doesn’t need. And, I mean, if it comes to a point where it’s starting to bother you more, you can always, like,  _ talk _ to him.” 

Jeremy groaned but leaned against Michael’s shoulder, ignoring the concerned look the woman in line behind them was giving him. “Why are you smart  _ and _ pretty? It’s so unfair.” 

Michael snorted softly. “Well, we can’t all be born as spectacular as me.” 

They moved up a space in line with Jeremy doing his best to still stay attached to Michael. 

“Does this mean I have to give Rich a shovel talk?” Michael asked. “Because even though he’s small, I’m still fairly certain he could kick my ass if he wanted to.” 

“Not if you team up on him with Jenna.”   
Michael gasped softly. “And you call  _ me _ the smart one.” 

Jeremy tried to make it seem like nothing had changed the next time he sat down with Rich at Joe’s. 

Rich immediately groaned and face-planted onto the table. 

So it went fairly well.

“I know Jake talked to you,” came Rich’s muffled voice. His head came back up, and he gave Jeremy a strained grin. “I’m so sorry. I  _ swear _ I didn’t ask him to do that, I mean, we’re not even dating so-.”

“It’s okay!” Jeremy managed to get out. His face was already starting to flush. “It’s totally fine. He’s a good friend. And, uh, if you ever need to talk about-.”

Rich groaned again, face sinking towards the table. “No, no, this is why I  _ didn’t _ want him to say anything. It’s  _ nothing _ . Jake is just...over-protective.”

Jeremy laughed softly. “I know the feeling.” Rich looked up and raised an eyebrow at him. “Michael’s also kind of insane like that.”

“They’re perfect for each other then.” 

“Don’t tell Michael that. He’ll never shut up about it.”

That seemed to get Rich to grin. He rested his chin on his hands and blinked up at Jeremy. “It was an ex-girlfriend. Like you know how straight dudes always like to complain about their crazy ex-girlfriends? Well mine was, like,  _ actually _ crazy.”

“Rich,” Jeremy said quickly, “you don’t have to-.”

“I know,” Rich interrupted. He shrugged a shoulder. Jeremy noticed his fingers had started to trace the tattoos around the burn scars on his right arm. “She was, like, super manipulative and mean. Wouldn’t let me hang out with certain people; wouldn’t even let me tell people I was bi. Well, we got into a fight and things got a little hairy and then a candle tipped over and,” he brought his hands together and made an mushroom-cloud-like-gesture, “ _ fwoosh _ , ya know?” 

“Oh.” His voice was impossibly soft, not knowing what to say. Eventually, he figured it was best to tell the truth. “I get it.”

Rich frowned. “Uh, I mean-.”

“No, sorry, that came out wrong.” Jeremy huffed at himself. “He wasn’t an ex, but there was this guy in high school who...yeah. I kinda thought he was the coolest person in the world, but turns out, he was just a jerk, you know? Plus, he liked  _ Eminem _ , I mean, c’mon...I should’ve known.”

“May he rest in peace.” Rich was biting back a grin. “Eminem, that is.”

Jeremy’s eyes widened. “Right, right, of course, yeah, sorry, definitely.” 

“Is it dumb that I just want to spend all my time with you?” Rich asked quietly. He grinned when Jeremy started to sputter but waited patiently. He was staring at Jeremy like he’d hung the stars and moon in the sky when, at best, Jeremy knew the closest he’d ever get to that was looking through a telescope. 

But still. 

_ But still _ .

“We should do that, you know,” he said. Rich’s eyebrows scrunched in his confusion, and Jeremy coughed slightly, glancing away. “I mean, not  _ all _ our time, that’d probably be weird and clingy. But you said, like, ‘it’s not even like we’re dating,’ but, I mean, we should...like, maybe, you know?”

Rich’s eyes widened, but his smile was soft; it was different from the beaming grin Jeremy had expected, but certainly no less special. “Yeah?”

Rich seemed uncertain, hesitant, experiencing one of those “too good to be true” moments. 

But, really, it was just  _ Jeremy _ .

He nodded. “Yeah.”

**Author's Note:**

> hey thanks so much for reading! this thing suuper got away from me but that's okay because i think it's cute even if it is 75% dialogue. (also i don't have a beta reader; i died like a man)
> 
> anyways im dying in spicy bis hell 
> 
> also sorry for the little snippets of potential world-building that you might've seen in there that amounted to nothing; i just have a lot of feelings/ideas about this au 
> 
> if you wanna come check me out or talk to me (and maybe even suggest things to write mayhaps i'll answer) my bmc blog is totally-bi-now on tumblr so,,,,come on down. im the one with the shitty ms paint rich goranski icon bc we don't steal art in this household


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